


ephemeral

by nisakomi



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisakomi/pseuds/nisakomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zhang Yixing is a backup dancer. Wu Yifan is the backup dancer’s backup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ephemeral

  
  
Technically, this is Yixing’s story. This is Yixing’s story, but it’s not Yixing telling it. This is Kris telling Yixing’s story because he thinks he knows it better than Yixing does anyway, and all things aside, it is also his story to tell.  
  
  
  
Sometimes it happens at daybreak.  
  
When he wakes up in the morning, the first thing Kris does is reach over across the bed and feel for Yixing’s body. When he gropes at air and touches the coolness of the sheets, he opens his eyes and jerks himself awake. The space beside him is empty, and he sighs, before taking a deep breath and rolling over to get up off the bed. He pads quietly down the hallway, peering into rooms with open doors and knocking on closed ones. He checks the bathtub, all the closets, on the sofa and underneath before finding Yixing sitting in front of the refrigerator, forehead pressing against the cool machine as it rumbles. Kris squats carefully beside Yixing and notices that he’s dozing. Lifting him up bridal style, Kris carries Yixing back into bed. He kisses Yixing’s cheek softly, darting a tongue out to taste and confirm the saltiness of tear streaks.  
  
Kris hates it when Yixing’s already asleep when he finds him, because it means that Kris took too long to get up and that Yixing’s been out of bed for ages. It also means that they won’t end up talking about whatever’s bothering Yixing because come morning, he’ll be chipper again and pretend nothing happened.  
  
Kris is a quiet and sullen kind of person, but Yixing is not. Kris knows this, and hates it when Yixing shuts his thoughts inside himself and refuses to talk.  
  
  
  
  
This is how their first meeting took place:  
  
Kris is sitting at a three person table cafe fumbling through his Psych 101 reading, and while the subject matter is fairly simple, his grasp on the Korean language is proving to be quite a challenge. Yixing, in his haste to grab a bite before his next dance class, bulldozes into Kris’ chair and tumbles into his lap. Yixing mutters a quick sorry and dashes off. Kris will always remember this moment of his life.  
  
(This is how Yixing thinks their first meeting takes place:  
  
Kris is sitting at a three person table in the cafe of the student lounge, and every other seat is taken up. Yixing and Lu Han enter, chatting amiably and ask to sit with Kris after getting drinks. Upon finding out that Kris is also Chinese, they invite him to a dumpling dinner they’re planning with friends. Kris agrees because he hasn’t had homemade Chinese food in a while.  
  
Yixing doesn’t remember Kris as the person he knocked into weeks prior, near the same table because he seems to running into people often, and doesn’t care to memorize names or faces. Thus, Kris is the one to tell the story, because Yixing has it all wrong.)  
  
  
  
  
Over the year, their biweekly dumpling dinners amass a large group of boys. Jongin and Sehun are dance majors with Yixing. Sehun and Lu Han have learned to give Yixing and Jongin space when they get really intense about choreography, but Kris prefers to watch them. One day, Lu Han brings two friends from his history class - Minseok and Zitao, both Chinese literature majors. Eventually, Jongin brings his roommate, Kyungsoo, who in turn invites a tall, gangly looking boy named Chanyeol, as well as a tiny boy named Joonmyeon. Chanyeol brings his boyfriend, Baekhyun, who happens to know Zitao and asks if they can invite their group partner Jongdae. By the end of the year, the twelve of them form a strong bond of friendship, the kind that can only be developed in the presence of good food and drink.  
  
It begins with the Chinese boys filling dough with meat and vegetables and creasing the edges of each wrapper so that each dumpling sits like a half-moon on a pan. Once enough are made, Yixing slowly lowers them into a pot of boiling water.  
  
At one point there are too many people for the four of them to make enough food for, they begin teaching the Korean boys as well. The first dumplings that are made sometimes break open so that the filling separates from the dough. Some others either are without enough dough, others with too much, and the worst is when they try to make shapes out of the dumplings.  
  
(The one Baekhyun makes Chanyeol immediately points at, shrieking, “IT’S A BABY!” which prompts the rest of them to make their own dumpling babies and Kris just looks forlornly at the amount of food that’s going to be wasted.)  
  
  
  
  
On the day before Christmas Eve, they all swap presents and try to get each other wasted before the food is even close to being ready. Kris is still hanging up his jacket when Yixing barrels into him, a bottle of rum in his hand. Kris has to act very quickly to make sure the bottle doesn’t drop and break and when he looks back at Yixing, he’s being giggled at.  
  
“What?” Kris deadpans, “I caught it!” He can’t help but be a little indignant.  
  
Yixing just points up and mumbles, “Mistletoe,” before leaning in to press soft, warm lips against Kris’ own. When Yixing stumbles away cheerfully, Kris brings a finger to his face and traces his mouth slowly.  
  
Despite being the last one to join the group, Jongdae’s the one who notices first. His eyes perk up when Kris and Yixing’s hands accidentally brush when they both reach for a dumpling wrapper and linger longer than is strictly necessary.  
  
Jongdae tilts his head at Lu Han who is pressing flour covered fingers to Sehun’s face and giggling like a schoolgirl. They watch as Lu Han blows the flour off Sehun’s cheek, only to get some in his eyes and when Kris looks at Jongdae again, he’s shooting him a shy and knowing smile. Kris’ smile, in return, is genuine and not a smirk. The next day, he properly asks Yixing out.  
  
Yixing’s reply is an extremely enthusiastic “Yes!” which is followed by an extremely long ramble about planning which makes Kris feel distinctly like they’re going to get married. Somehow, he doesn’t find that he minds.  
  
  
  
  
“Wu Yifan,” Kris says solemnly, as he and Yixing smooth out their new bed sheets. Yixing gives him a blank look.  
  
They had gone shopping that day, looking for decorations for the apartment they recently rented together for sophomore year.  
  
“Linens,” Yixing announces, as they step into the bedding section of the department store.  
  
“We need pillows, and pillowcases, and blankets, and maybe a duvet, and sheets, towels, and pillows for the sofa, and wait did we pick up tablecloths?”  
  
Kris laughs, warm and deep, before lifting Yixing’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.  
  
“Let’s just get a set.”  
  
“A matching set? But what color?”  
  
They end up choosing a deep navy.  
  
Kris remembers this day for two reasons. The first is that when they arrive home, completely exhausted and carrying huge bags of stuff, the phone is ringing. He drops the shopping bags in the hall and reaches for the phone.  
  
“May I speak to Zhang Yixing?” a voice asks him.  
  
“Hold on.”  
  
It’s the notification that Yixing has passed his audition to become a dancer for S.M. Entertainment. After Yixing’s finished whooping with joy, Kris tells him his real name and makes him repeat it.  
  
That night they have sex for the first time on dark blue silk sheets, and when Kris is buried deep within him, Yixing spills come from his cock, and the words “Wu Yifan” over and over from his lips.  
  
  
  
  
S.M. wants Yixing as a backup dancer. Yixing leaps at the chance, because there aren’t that many jobs for dance majors, other than joining a group or a company. It’s good, hard, work, and they tell him he can finish university on the side, that training is more important. Kris tries to give him as much support as he can, all the while trying not to drown in his business management courses.  
  
The training is gruelling, but Kris sees enjoyment and excitement in Yixing’s eyes, the kind of passion that anyone who wants to be anyone in any performing or visual arts fields must have. It’s different from Sehun’s easy-going attitude with his hip hop duo and different from Jongin’s constant stress from joining a contemporary ballet company as a second soloist. Nowadays, when Kris touches Yixing, it feels like he’s on fire.  
  
Sometimes, on Sunday afternoons, when Kris piles up laundry into the hamper, he half expects scorch marks on their sheets. They’ve progressed now, from solid colors to stripes, and even one set of polka dots. He carries the hamper down with all of their clothes and linens, loading the washer mechanically before dumping in detergent and starting the machine. He hums carefully along with the low buzz and finishes half his commerce assignment by the time everything is washed and dried.  
  
When he returns upstairs, he’s surprised to find that Yixing is already home. They fold shirts and trousers together, placing them carefully in the dresser or hanging them in the closet. Their conversation is soft and natural, and when Yixing finishes setting up the ironing board, Kris stands behind him and wraps his arms around Yixing’s waist. He leans down to rest his chin on Yixing’s shoulder, watching Yixing firmly press down with the hot iron to make their dress shirts crisp and wrinkle free. When Kris inhales, his nostrils are filled with the scent of fresh cleanness, and a smell that is distinctly Zhang Yixing.  
  
“Jongin’s invited us, Sehun, and Lu Han to his debut performance,” Yixing mentions, “I can’t wait until I can perform too.”  
  
When they arrive in their seats to _Romeo and Juliet_ , Kyungsoo is already there, holding a huge bouquet of roses. Kyungsoo’s face is alive and shining, but not as much as Yixing’s. His eyes follow Jongin, who has come into his role of Benvolio rather spectacularly and Yixing looks almost starstruck, with his mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ and eyes glued to the stage. It’s a rather striking performance, much less classical than anything Kris would have expected, with minimal stage sets and almost no costumes. The artistry is there, however, and the story told with heart aching beauty.  
  
They wait for Jongin outside the greenroom, Kyungsoo leaning forward to kiss him full on the lips before grinning. The rest of them congratulate Jongin on a performance well done, and Sehun snarkily comments that after years of stagnation, it seems Jongin has finally improved. Yixing quickly says that it’s because Jongin was so good in the first place that there was no way to improve in the conditions of their university anyway. They slip out to share drinks and catch up with each other, and when Jongin arrives for his own debut party, he’s already rather drunk.  
  
It’s because of this night that Kris thinks of doing a group dinner again for Yixing’s birthday party, offering to cook traditional Chinese food since exams are over. Kris begins preparations days in advance, going out to the supermarket to buy all the necessary ingredients for steamed fish head in chili sauce and pearl meatballs as well as dumplings, sticky lotus leaf rice, fuqi feipian, dan dan noodles, spare ribs with black bean sauce, dry fried green beans, mapo tofu, vegetables with oyster sauce, fish-fragrant eggplant, and a winter melon soup.  
  
He enlists the help of Lu Han and Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo ends up being extremely good at Szechuan dishes and Lu han is rather good at following instructions in the kitchen. By the time the four of them are done, they have completed a feast, but with twelve men, most of the food gets eaten up anyway.  
  
It is a night of great company and rambunctious laughter, but Kris will always remember this day as when things began to fall apart.  
  
  
  
  
Sometimes, he finds Yixing lying in the bathtub.  
  
The day after Yixing’s birthday, Kris wakes up to no one sleeping beside him. He panics and screams for Yixing, finding him curled up into a ball in the bathtub, fully clothed and completely dry. Yixing will tell him later that he has no memory of what happens. Two weeks later, the events of the morning play out again, but Kris finds him sitting, cross-legged, on the living room floor. This time, he’s not asleep.  
  
Kris stands awkwardly in the doorway for a while, before realizing how tall he is in comparison, and sitting down quietly beside Yixing.  
  
“My debut performance is next month,” Yixing whispers. The ghosts of the words float into the room, and surround them both, making Kris feel like he can’t breathe in happiness. He wraps his arms gently around Yixing’s shoulders and they stay there, sitting, until Kris has to go to class.  
  
  
  
  
The first show he is performing for is a concert put on by Yunho and Changmin in Seoul. Kris buys tickets with the money from his first paycheck as a department manager in a real estate company. He buys them for himself and Lu Han, knowing that the other man was previously a complete DBSK fanboy. They wait in the audience, Kris a towering figure over thousands of screaming fangirls. Lu Han grins and chants along to whatever song the duo are singing, but Kris only has eyes on the backup dancers.  
  
Despite the fact that they’re all dressed in black, and mostly look the same, Kris can pinpoint Yixing right away. When Yixing dances there is a certain air about him that is unmistakable. It’s the aura of someone meant to dance. Not necessarily physically, or talent-wise, but someone who was born onto the earth for one purpose - to dance.  
  
It’s in the fluidity of his movements, the way he transitions and transforms his body, making shapes and lines, rolling his body and his hips, tilting his head, lifting his arms. It’s in the speed and precision of his actions, the deftness with which he performs each step. Yixing’s in sync with the music, even lost in it, breathing nothing but the flow of his body. And it translates into a rather stunning piece of work.  
  
Kris briefly wonders if backup dancers are supposed to upstage the dance skills of the actual performers themselves.  
  
Somewhere along, Yixing has gained complete control of all his limbs, knowing exactly where each body part is and how to move it in just the right way. But he doesn’t mimic poses, instead, he flies into them and through them. There’s a fierceness to his dancing, a threatening storm, just like the fire in his eyes. While in technical aspects no one could doubt Yixing’s proficiency, it’s in the interpretation that Yixing really shines.  
  
Where others complete moves to memory, Yixing absorbs the dance like a sponge, soaking up every nuance and element holistically. When he dances, he’s not just letting out positions, but also leaking a bit of himself into every pose. Every shake, wiggle, lift, and step, every stomp, turn, shuffle and jump, there’s something screaming Zhang Yixing into the world. Kris is usually a rather possessive person, but this, the shining star that he has somehow managed to keep as his own, well, he’s willing to share that light.  
  
  
  
They celebrate with drinks at a bar, and Yixing’s flushed with pride. The glow from his skin is not from alcohol so much as sheer joy. It makes Kris’ heart skip a beat. The radiating brightness feels a little bit like finding light at the end of a tunnel.  
  
  
  
It feels like Yixing’s asked to perform everywhere after that. It’s non-stop recording for music shows, music videos, concerts, showcases, exhibits, collaborations. His manager gets calls from people who have heard from people who are friends with other people and know people. Once the networks are opened, it’s hard to close the gate again. He gets flown across China, Japan, and Korea, always coming home to tell Kris stories about the people and celebrities he’s met, the dancers he’s worked with, new choreo he’s learned, and how happy he is.  
  
Kris feels a pang whenever he lies awake in bed at night, alone, without Yixing, but he knows that Yixing is off doing better and more important things and tries not to dwell. He rolls over, and sends Yixing a sleepy goodnight message before drifting off to sleep. They work their relationship over late-night skype calls and quick email messages throughout the day.  
  
But then, Yixing comes home after an extended trip to Taiwan, and Kris notices it.  
  
This is what he sees coming through the front door:  
  
Yixing is paler, his skin sallow looking and eyes sunken. His shoulders are sagging, and his eyes look like he’s a little bit lost. The energy and vibe of happiness is entirely missing, and instead, Yixing exudes an aura that feels like a black cloud. Kris thinks that instead of having his star back, he has a black hole. Yixing’s legs are sluggish, and his arms drooping. He seems to collapse onto the sofa and melt into it entirely. But there’s still a small smile on his face.  
  
(This is what Kris wanted to see, and what Yixing wanted Kris to see:  
  
Happiness. Joy. Mirth. Energy and vibrancy. Yixing wants to paint a rainbow in Kris’ life, wants to light it up and illuminate. He wants to show him that he’s enjoying himself.)  
  
  
  
Kris immediately asks if he can request only jobs in Seoul. Kris thinks that the travelling and overwork has made Yixing stressed and exhausted, and Yixing complies. This is Kris’ story, so he doesn’t know that Yixing only agrees because he really misses being able to sleep next to Kris at night and wake up in his arms.  
  
In Seoul, Yixing spends more and more time in the S.M. company building. It’s there when he’s wandering the building that he accidentally bumps into Zhang Liyin in a hallway. He apologizes profusely, and her eyes are full of amusement as she helps him up.  
  
“Zhang Yixing right?” She asks, “You’re supposed to be in my next MV.”  
  
“Right. When is that going to come out?”  
  
“It was supposed to come out ‘next month’ for the past two dozen months or so,” she says, forcing a laugh.  
  
“Doesn’t it...Sorry if this seems rude, but don’t you want to be recognized more? You’re so talented and the performers currently out there - well, all of their names are everywhere, yet you’re hidden here, and locked away.”  
  
“There are millions of people who aren’t even close to what either of us have now,” She replies wisely.  
  
  
  
The thing is, the empty hollowness doesn’t seem to leave. It’s like Yixing has a broken battery, and no matter how much he rests, he cannot recharge. Kris has half a mind to take them on vacation, but neither of them can really spare the time. He begins to wonder if he’s doing something wrong, if he’s the one draining Yixing. And without consciously being aware of it, he starts pulling away.  
  
And so, Yixing is left to wallow in his own thoughts, spending more and more time alone in practice rooms and studios, choreographing pieces that no one else will ever see to music that he never knew he enjoyed. He comes home later and later, sweat still dripping from his neck when he enters, showering quietly and staying in a corner of the apartment by himself to think.  
  
Kris gives him space, wants Yixing to be able to breathe, but he doesn’t know what Yixing’s thinking, can’t know when they’re not really speaking more than trivial matters in conversation these days. He no longer hears stories about Yixing’s dances, doesn’t get explanations or even his ear talked off from hearing Yixing’s aspirations and dreams.  
  
None of their friends seem to realize that anything is amiss. Contrary to Sehun and Lu han who seem to live their relationship like an open book, Kris and Yixing are both reserved and keep their relationship that way. It’s left to the others to piece together their story, and whether they get it right or wrong, neither of them care.  
  
(“I love you,” Kris had said, for the first time many years ago.  
  
“But - what?” Yixing looks at him confused, as if unsure what brought this up.  
  
“I love you,” Kris says again, simply, “Love isn’t something that needs to be explained. Does it?”  
  
Yixing shakes his head in response and splays his fingers across Kris’ chest.  
  
“The others, should we tell them?”  
  
“No, let them figure it out on their own.”  
  
Kris is moments from falling asleep when he hears Yixing’s voice, quiet beside his ear, “I love you more.”)  
  
  
The first sign he gets in understanding what’s going on in Yixing’s head comes during a shopping trip. They’re doing groceries, which is an undeniably tedious task, Kris thinks. He hates having to carry bags of food home in the heat, and doesn’t like having to plan out meals in his head for the entire week as he looks at which vegetables are special for the day. He sends Yixing off to bag fruits and he heads toward the meat counter.  
  
When Kris next finds him, Yixing is hovering outside the snack aisle.  
  
“Go ahead, grab something,” Kris says encouragingly. But Yixing shakes his head.  
  
“Look,” he says, pointing at a life sized banner of SNSD. “Don’t you think it’d be nice, to be recognized as an idol. To have your name known by the public rather than just people in the industry?”  
  
Kris looks at Yixing and blinks carefully, taking in this man with ruffled hair, wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops, carrying peaches in a clear plastic bag, and realization dawns on him.  
  
“But you’re even better than them,” Kris says seriously.  
  
Yixing’s bitter laughter is like a knife through Kris’ heart.  
  
The truth is, Kris has no real grasp on what Yixing is feeling. He understands physical pain, mental exhaustion, stress, pressure, and so on. But what Yixing feels is a yearning, an absolute longing to be acknowledged, to be seen as something more than just fleeting. It’s the pain of knowing you’re good, great even, but regardless of your quality, you’re still replaceable.  
  
That feeling transcends all of your perceptions of the world. It trickles into your relationships and interactions with everyone. It makes you feel like everyone actively thinks that you can be discarded easily. It makes you feel worthless and useless in everyone’s life because you’re an expendable. Even if you’re good, better, or the best, you’re not the significant factor of the equation, you’re a coefficient when everyone else is an exponent, and it makes you feel like you’re drowning.  
  
In some ways, it’s motivational. It makes you want to never be the one that’s considered superfluous. You work your ass off to stay at the top, to not get thrown away. But that too is exhausting, and pretty soon Yixing’s surrendered himself to a feeling of unease and displeasure that sits deep within him and refuses to be drawn out with teasing or laughter.  
  
So Kris knows, but he doesn’t quite _understand_ and the feeling in his bones isn’t the same helplessness that Yixing feels. The feeling is the weakness you experience when you realize that a loved one is in pain and you can’t help them or you don’t know how to help them but you also cannot watch them suffer. Yixing’s previous gift of light to him, is now a gift of heartbreak.  
  
  
  
They fuck that night, slowly and painfully, with Kris treating Yixing as if he were a delicate doll, and willed him not to break. They crescendo to a breaking point, and when Yixing finds his release, he doesn’t collapse bonelessly and ask for cuddles as he usually does. Instead, he’s pounding his fists at Kris, knocking against his chest and sobbing. Kris sits up and tries to wipe away Yixing’s tears but Yixing jerks away and looks at him pointedly.  
  
“Why do you stay with me?”  
  
Kris drops his jaw in shock, and reaches his arms around to hug Yixing towards him, rendering his half-hearted punches useless. ‘Fuck,’ he thinks, ‘Fuck, fuck _fuck_ , how the fuck did it end up with him feeling insecure about this, shit, piss, fuck.’  
  
“I love you,” he says, once he’s gained control of his thoughts and his voice.  
  
“But why? No one _cares_ about me, Wu Yifan,” he says viciously, “I’m an alternate. A back up. Temporary. Passing. Fleeting. It’s been years, why are you still here? Why isn’t this vanishing before my eyes?”  
  
Kris wants to scream.  
  
“You have been the only permanent fixture in my life since our first year of college, Yixing, how could you possibly think that you were passing? Do you want us to be short-lived? I love you. I’ll love you _forever_. Is that permanent enough for you?”  
  
Yixing doesn’t say anything but shakes and trembles in bed until they both fall asleep.  
  
  
  
The next day, Kris has to travel all over the city before he can finally come home. He finds Yixing crying in a closet and sits down to pull him into an embrace. After Yixing stops sobbing and his body stops heaving, Kris reaches down into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small velvet box.  
  
He flicks it open without Yixing seeing what he’s doing and gets up onto his knees before reaching a hand to tilt Yixing’s chin up.  
  
What Yixing sees is what Kris has been looking for all day, a pair of sleek, white gold bands, one of which Kris slips onto Yixing’s ring finger. Yixing begins to cry again.  
  
“A promise,” Kris says, before taking a deep breath, “Of eternity.”  
  
  
  
The next Yunho and Changmin concert that Yixing performs at, Kris drags Lu Han to again. Yixing dances as if the entire world is watching him. Even if their eyes aren’t on him, it doesn’t matter. Because he knows Kris’ eyes will never leave his body, and after all, Wu Yifan is Zhang Yixing’s entire world.  
  
  
---  
  
**Author's Note:**

> written as part of the runandgun fic exchange; for jirettai.
> 
> with thanks to g.


End file.
